


If You Can't Wake Up from the Nightmare, Maybe You're not Asleep

by orphan_account



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, How Do I Tag, Human Experimentation, I'll add more tags as i go, It'll pick up in the later chapters I promise, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-01 17:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This takes place after A Map of Days, if you haven't read it you probably won't get spoiled for that book but you will get spoilers for Library of Souls for sure.The peculiar children and Miss Peregrine have been living in Jacob's lofty house for a while now. His parents are usually on vacation, they say they want to see the world but he knows they're avoiding the peculiars. The ymbrynes have found many of the wights in hiding and imprisoned them, though they can't be sure if they have all of them. This being said, the wights aren't really the main problem. Not all peculiars are good, many in America are greedy and hungry for power. The word about Ambrosia has spread around quite a lot, to be granted the powers of another peculiar sounds too good to be true, even if it only lasts minutes. What if someone found a way to make those powers permanent?





	1. Gunshots

He could hear gunshots clanging against metal. A cacophony of clanging, clattering, commotion that vibrated throughout his chest. He was running. He didn’t know where he was going exactly but he wasn’t running fast enough. He choked on his breath and his feet were fumbling beneath him. Someone pulled him up and shouted at him.  


‘Oh, there are other people here,’ he managed to think while hastily stumbling on the slick tile beneath him. The person had grabbed their arm and quickly pulled them behind one of the broken walls. Her palms lit up with flame and she looked at him with lingering fear in her eyes.  


‘We need to find the others and get out of here.’ she panted while looking over the wall, only to duck down at a bullet. Guess their little breather was over. Emma grabbed his hand again and broke into a low run. She set the room behind her on fire resulting in startled yells echoing behind them. They turned a corner and rushed down the hall to find the others. He could hear the footsteps getting closer to them as they ran. They reached a dead end in a hall filled with about ten doors lining the walls. Emma pulled open one of the doors in her panic and pushed Horace in,carefully closing it behind her. They gasped for air, trying to control their breath as they could hear the footsteps nearing..  


The room was dark and smelled like blood. He squinted in the black and tried to make out shapes. Emma lit a flame on one of her fingers to lighten the room. There were bodies, at least a dozen of them, hanging from bloodied hooks on the walls. Surprisingly, he didn’t throw up, but he did let out a squeak. Big mistake. The shouts from the hall became louder and they could hear them near the door. Emma ignited her hands and stood to the side of the door and Horace closed his eyes. The door banged open and a gun was thrust into the room. He could feel the vibrations of the gunshots in his chest.  


-  


Horace woke up in a cold sweat, his throat raw felt raw and cold tears left streaks down his flushed face. With a shivering hand he turned on the adorable lamp with pictures of sheep leaping across the felt. He sat up and ran hands down his face, wiping away the still spilling tears. In the bed across from him was Millard, in his pig pajamas. The nightwear had been a joke gift from Enoch, taunting Millard’s study on said animals back on the island. Millard wore them every night just to spite and annoy him, they were also quite plush.  


He could tell the invisible boy was looking at him, the hood on his onesie really helped show which way his head was facing. Horace laced his fingers in his blankets and muttered an apology, his head down and eyes downcast. He heard Millard sigh as he sat up and faced him.  


“You okay?” asked the floating pig pajamas.  


Horace nodded and sat up, wiping his face. Horace had asked for his room to be made soundproof a few weeks before, he didn’t like disturbing everyone in the middle of the night. The walls had intricate patterns that were actually rather beautiful, blue and white grooved spirals spread across the entire bedroom, functionable and gorgeous.  


“Your dreams have been getting worse lately,” remarked Millard in a sympathetic tone, “I think you should tell Miss Pere-”  


“It’s fine.” Horace’s cracked voice cut Millard off. His hands balled into fists and he turned away, red creeping up his face.  


“You have nothing to be ashamed of. It is simply your peculiar ability” said Millard. He shifted awkwardly, not knowing quite what to say. Nonetheless, Horace appreciated it.  


He’s shared this room with Millard ever since they first moved into Jacob’s house. The house itself is pretty big but it still doesn’t have as many rooms as their old one on Cairnholm, everyone had to have at least one roomate. Enoch was the exception as he found the closet under the stairs to be “cozy”.  


Millard said he doesn’t mind being woken up in the night, he often stayed up late reading and writing anyway. He never complained about the noise and never got frustrated with Horace. The see-through teen is annoying sometimes sure, but he is loyal.  


Horace clicked off his light with a huff and got back under his covers.  


“It’s not that big of a deal, I overreacted.” Horace said, “Let’s just go back to bed.”  


“Would you mind at least telling me what it was about?”  


“I don’t remember.”  


Liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, Millard is my favorite character. I had a lot of fun writing this first chapter! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! If you liked this feel free to let me know. I really want to know if people are interested in this fic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that this got read by some people! I was worried that no one would care about this. Most of the Miss Peregrine fics seem to be more romance centered XD. The plot will pick up pretty soon but this next chapter is more of a filler while I think of some more stuff to really drive this story!

Enoch was bored out of his skull. He had been sitting in this stupid class for what seemed like days. He didn’t even know what class it was. Math? English? Heck if he knew. He doodled bloody torsos on his notebook, completely ignoring the teacher as she gave some lengthy lecture on ratios or some shit. He let out one of his dramatic sighs as he leaned all the way over on the desk, almost laying on top of it in a full body slouch.  


“Enoch, were supposed to be doing a group project.” hissed Hugh from beside him. Hugh had been taking more notes than Enoch, but his paper was still 30% doodle ,50% blank paper, and about 100% incorrect information on percentages. Wait…  


“Buzz off,” sneered Enoch, slightly tilting his head head to the side of the desk so Hugh could catch his glare, “I’ll just get Millard to do it when we get home.” Enoch sat up and checked the clock for the fifteenth time that period. He groaned and slammed his head back down on the table.  


“It’s due tomorrow!” whisper yelled Hugh, kicking Enoch’s chair, “If this doesn’t get finished by then Miss Peregrine's’ gonna ground our asses!”  


“Millard can do it in one night,” said Enoch, kicking Hugh’s chair in retaliation, “He has nothing but free time.”  


Being the honest, hard working person Hugh is, he of course objected to making Millard complete their entire assignment in one night.  


“I’ll ask the teacher for an extension, maybe we can turn it in on Friday instead. That’s more than enough time to make a poster board on pie charts.” said Hugh already thinking of a perfect excuse to use.  


“That’ll sound too fishy, let's say Wednesday.”  


“Eh, good enough.”  


“Enoch and Hugh, stop talking and actually pay attention to my class!” Scolded the teacher. This wasn’t the first time she’s caught those two weirdo exchange students talking during her lectures. The one with the eyebags told her to stuff it the other day and she just near blew her fuse.  


Enoch showed her the bird once her back was turned and went back to doodling body parts on his notebook.  
-

The house was quiet, no one in the house could be seen, all the residences either at school or some ymbryne board meeting. Well, everyone but someone who couldn’t be seen. Millard sat flipping through the notes in Abe’s logbook with a invisible look of boredom on his face. He had already read and reread the logbook many times and had it learnt by heart at this point.  


He had been alone in the house all day doing nothing but rereading articles and books he’s read a thousand times, and trying to perfectly align all the labels on the canned vegetables in the pantry. In other words, he was bored out of his skull.  


If anyone asked if he was jealous that Miss Peregrine had important work to attend to and the others were at school, he would’ve replied with a quick and firm ‘No’. Well of course that’s not true, he was practically green with envy.  


Claire’s mouth could be hidden by curls, Olive’s normal school shoes were lined with dense weights, Hugh’s bees could stay at home. All the things that might have been problems before are solved. They will always stick out but not in a supernatural way. Everyone can survive in the normal world without too many raised eyebrows. Everyone with something TO hide.  


Millard has nothing to be covered or concealed, nothing that he has to keep to himself. He’s considered dying his hair and skin, maybe contact lenses for the eyes and long sleeved shirts and baggy pants. He then thought about the problem with his mouth, a big gaping negative space would appear whenever he talked. So that idea was scrapped as quickly as it came.  


Jacob has talked about online schooling from a laptop. That idea would be perfect if it was the knowledge Millard was after. He believed he already knew anything they could ever try to teach him and more. He wanted the experience, he had never been to a real school before and he wanted to see what it was like. The friend-making the clubs the dances he wanted to see those things for himself and be a part of them. Although the biggest reason he wanted all this was because he wanted to go to school with his friends and not be alone all the time.  


He sighed in the silence of the house he had all to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, sorry bout that. I usually write when I get hit with a perfect idea. If I got nothin then the ideas come out stale and forced. If people really like this I will update all the time. Thanks for the Kudos and comments! They really help!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this came out a little late! I wrote and rewrote this chapter so many times it's not even funny. I wanted to start going into the serious plot of this fic but I got busy and didn't want to make this super late. Here's a little fun chapter while you wait, I'll try to finish the serious one ASAP.

The school was honestly pretty close to their house. Only about a mile and a half away, a thirty minute walk if they didn’t stall. This didn’t stop anyone from complaining about it.  


“Why can’t Miss Peregrine just drive us home from school,” whined Olive, kicking the dirt with her weighted sneakers, “It’s so cold I’m gonna die of frostbite.”  


“You won’t die, you’re wearing three sweatshirts!” pouted Claire, “The rest of us only have one!”  


“Lets stop at the gas station, I want to try some lottery cards.” Enoch said, rubbing his hands together. “Magic Eight Ball here can tell us which one to buy.”  


Horace threw a tired glare back at Enoch as he responded, “I do not dream of mundane things like fake lottery cards!”  


“They are not fake, I’ve seen people on ads who’ve won them!” said Enoch with a know-it-all look on his face, “What’s mundane about getting tons of cash?”  


By the time they finished their argument, they were already home. Jacob unlocked the door and everyone piled inside, throwing their coats on the sofa and floor. Olive slipped off her shoes and floated right to the ceiling.  


“Ew! My toes are all wrinkly!” She exclaimed from her sitting position above them.  
“Didn’t I tell you not to jump in puddles?” Bronwyn picked up Olive’s wet shoes and placed them outside, “Now you have raisin feet.” Bronnwyn shook her head at Olive while going into the laundry room to find some towels.  


Horace dropped face first onto the couch and groaned loudly.  


“Drama queen.” huffed Enoch, pushing Horace’s legs over so he could sit down. He turned on the tv and switched to some show where they took apart normal cars and gave them more powerful parts. Just as a buggy was roaring like a dragon and speeding down a steep hill, Emma turned off the T.V.  


“What’s your problem, woman!” he shouted reaching for the remote.  


“We have homework,idiot,” she said, snatching the remote and putting it on top of the T.V, “and your Frankenstein car show is loud enough to wake the dead.”  


Horace mumbled an agreement, his face still buried in the couch. If looks could kill, Emma would’ve been a smoldering pile of ash right now. Enoch threw up his hands as he exhaled sharply from his mouth and stomped off to go into the basement, where he had his own T.V. He slammed the door behind him as they heard the basement steps rattling with angry steps.  


“I’m the drama queen?” said Horace lifting his face from the couch and sitting up.  


“Hey Millard we’re back!” called Hugh walking up a few of the stairs. “Where the heck is he?”  


Millard usually is waiting in the living room when everyone comes home, telling them about his day and asking them about theirs. His stories are always pretty bland, the most exciting being when a raccoon crawled in through an open window and terrorized him until Emma came home and chased it away with her flames.  


Millard walked into the room, wearing an apron and balancing a large silver mixing bowl in his arm. In the other he held a messy wooden spoon. Hugh looked down at him from the stairs, the apron was Jacob’s dad’s thanksgiving attire and it looked pretty ridiculous reading “Turkey Time” in bold letters with a dancing turkey under it.  


“Whatcha doin’ there bud?” he asked, while stepping down from the stairs. Millard was no stranger to doing weird things when he got bored, this wasn’t very surprising.  


Horace looked up from over the couch and grinned broadly, “I had no idea you were interested in the culinary arts!” he chirped getting up from his spot and coming over, “I knew one day someone around here would appreciate the art of fine cuisine! What are you trying out for your first dish?”  


Millard’s had bobbed downward as if he was looking into the bowl, then back up in Horace's direction. “It’s cookie dough.” he said slowly.  


“Baking cookies is a wonderful idea! Simple yet satisfying.”  


Millard didn’t say respond right away, he set the spoon in the bowl and awkwardly shuffled his feet, “I was actually just going to eat the dough like this.”  


Horace’s eye twitched, “You made cookie dough, and you aren’t going to make cookies?”  


“No…?”  


Hugh came over and stuck his finger into the bowl and scraped the side. He popped the dough in his mouth and smiled, “Hey, not bad. This chocolate chip?”  


Horace looked like he was about to implode, he was very serious about fashion but he also tended to be appalled by all things food disaster related.  


“You will both die of salmonella,” he said rubbing his forehead and turning back to grab his backpack off the couch, “and go to hell for your crimes against baking.” He threw it over his shoulder and went upstairs, muttering to himself all the way about wasting perfectly good ingredients.  


“Hey, can you help with my homework tonight?” asked Hugh, turning to the invisible baker and sticking his hand back in the bowl and scooping out a handful.  


“I’ll help but I won’t do it all like last time.” replied Millard, shoving Hugh away from the bowl as he went to go put it on baking sheets. Might as well cook the darn things if Horace was so gung-ho about it.


End file.
